


Providence

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: A Clan of Two [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Yoda Acquisition, Beginnings, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Episode: s01e01 The Mandalorian, Gen, Missing Scene, Protective Din Djarin, Short & Sweet, The start of something beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27575933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: Exploration of the final scene in the first episode of the Mandalorian.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin
Series: A Clan of Two [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015681
Comments: 9
Kudos: 58





	Providence

**Author's Note:**

> *I don't know anything about Star Wars. I'm just here for the story of our single-dad trying to make it on his own.

He looked down at the creature…no the child, heart thumping strangely in his chest, the adrenalin of the fight twisting and turning into something darker, something nefarious and dishonorable. Din did not believe in fate or destiny; he did not see life as a stage with all the parts already played out and he certainly did not believe that he was anymore significant then anyone else.

Yet.

This moment felt precarious, like a path was splitting in two and whichever he chose to travel down would decide more than just his future. Dark eyes, wide and startlingly intelligent looked up at him, only him, seemingly ignoring the droid and Din found himself being sucked into them, unable to look away, unable to do anything but stare.

Fifty years old.

Still a child.

Still helpless.

Still in need of protection.

Just as he had been once.

Mandalorians killed those who’d earned it, those who’d stood in their way, they did not kill children, not for any reward. The droid lifted his hand, and the decision was easy, his own blaster moving swiftly to kill the damned thing.

The child did not flinch at the sound of the blaster, just as it had barely reacted to their words. It felt almost as though a spell had been cast upon him, one he did not welcome, one he could not untangle himself from. Despite himself, Din raised his hand, a finger outstretched toward the child, who looked at him without even a hint of fear.

For a long moment, it looked at him.

Din was not a man of many words, did not know what to say to comfort the creature before him, to reassure it that he would not harm him, not here and now. For a brief second, a thought flitted through his mind, to remove his helmet so the child could see the sincerity in his eyes.

Just as he banished the notion, his heart still thundering away, the child tilted its head and lifted one hand toward him, the softest of cooing noises slipping from its lips as it reached for him. The path he had travelled down ended sharply in a cliff, whose edge he perched upon, staring down into the long abyss.

He couldn’t kill this child.

Neither could he fathom giving up the bounty.

It was worth too much.

Din stood there, waiting for the wind to blow him in either direction, send him tumbling or landed on solid ground.

The child cooed again.

He closed the last of the space between them and watched as wrinkled, green fingers wrapped around his own, holding him there with a surprising grip, as though he were afraid to be left alone again.

Din’s heart ached.

A noise startled him, head whipping around to face the door, only to find something had tumbled to the floor, an old cannister that had been leaning near the wall. It was enough to make him move, to remember that this child was a high value target and there would certainly be other bounty hunters on the way to complete the job if he didn’t.

Turning back to the defenseless creature, he let himself sink into the whisper of protectiveness in his chest, allowed himself this small reprieve from his dark musings. Din would not kill him, would keep him safe from the bounty hunters that would not spare his life another thought, and deliver him to his employer…to do with as he wished.

He chose to ignore the way that last thought made something sickly twist in his gut.

“Come on,” he found himself murmuring. “It’s time to leave.”

The child’s ears flexed, his eyes widening slightly, and he wondered what all it had seen in its many years on this earth…how it had managed to survive this long. Keeping his blaster at his side, Din tugged his hand from the creature’s and moved to close the lid of its shell, hoping it would be thick enough to deflect any firepower that by befall it.

He steeled himself against the mild sound of distress that came from it as he did so. This was to keep it safe and it was best, Din thought, to get used to such noises. The more he cared, the harder it would be to do his duty, to fulfill his obligations to the order.

As he turned to face the door, the pod floating gently behind him, he couldn’t quite shake the sense of failure pervading his gut. Choosing not to kill the child hadn’t decided his fate, he still felt like he was precariously perched on the edge of that cliff, that something was hovering over him, watching him, waiting for him to make a decision that would end things either way.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Din tried to banish that creeping sensation of darkness and focus on the task ahead of him. There was a long trek back to his ship and a longer flight to return his bounty. Already, his mind was scrambling to come up with plans for his unexpected passenger, to make sure he had enough food and firepower to keep the child alive and the other bounties at bay.

Paranoia did not do anyone any good, he was probably just exhausted from the fight and the too hot sun. He should drink some water…perhaps share it with the child before continuing on. Soon enough, Din reassured himself, this would all be over, and he would not have to think of it again, would not have to look at that child.

The thought, firm as it was, seemed almost artificial to him. He walked out into the bright sun, head turning to look back briefly, just to be certain the pod was close and safe, awareness prickling along his skin and if he didn’t know any better, Din might think this was inevitable, like he was repeating the steps in a centuries old dance, to be played out again and again and again.

He should really drink some water.


End file.
